


Five Things Jean Havoc Is Surprisingly Good At

by evil_whimsey



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_whimsey/pseuds/evil_whimsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As prompted by pandoraculpa.  Mostly Gen, with an eensy hint of Winry/Havoc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Jean Havoc Is Surprisingly Good At

1\. He can't boast of any musical talent--never learned an instrument, and wouldn't sing in public if his life depended on it. But with nothing save his two hands and a blade of grass, Jean can coax bright-crested cardinals to perch on the back fence and sing instead.

2\. Major Hughes was a wicked piece of work with those throwing knives stashed in his sleeve, and Lieutenant Hawkeye has only to put a hand to her holster to stop most altercations before they even start. But when you needed somebody to jump into the thick of it, when it came down to elbows and kicks and dirty sucker-punches, Lieutenant Havoc was the man Roy always wanted at his back.

 

3\. The problem wasn't that Havoc was no good with women. It's that all the women he approached were expecting Roy Mustang, and Mustang always approached a very particular type of woman.

Miss Winry Rockbell has little patience with suave sophistication, and would just as soon answer flattery with the butt-end of a drill press, if it strikes her as unnecessary. Yet she smiles, when Havoc sometimes blushes and stammers, and when he knows he's been way too frank, and can only hide his eyes behind his hand wishing with all his heart he could just disappear, she'll take his arm or pat his shoulder (or even, as in one miraculous instance, kiss his cheek).

Havoc knows he'll never in a million years be any good at being Roy Mustang. But somehow, through some incredible blessing of dumb fortune, he gets to discover that he's damned good at being Jean Havoc, that lucky bastard who Miss Winry always has a smile for.

 

4\. They're perched on the back porch at the end of a long hazy summer afternoon. Winry fanning herself with a folded newspaper.  
"...I can peel an apple in one strip," she offers. "Granny Pinako taught me."  
"No kidding? I could never get the hang of that," Havoc says.

"What about you?"

"Hmm. Let's see." He scratches the back of his head. "I can spit a watermelon seed and hit a tin can."  
"How far?" asks Winry, herself a veteran of seed-spitting contests.  
"I dunno. Six, seven feet?"  
"No way."  
He wiggles his bare toes, stretches a lazy, cocky grin out towards the yard. "Still got some melon in the icebox? I'll prove it."

After a long, level look, she slaps her hands to the porch and pushes up. "You're on. I gotta see this."

 

5\. Colonel Mustang exited the building in a rush, cursing the rain and Thursdays, and all self aggrandizing long-winded Brigadier Generals.  
"You," he snapped at a young Corporal, lounging outside the motor pool with a cigarette dangling off his lip. "I have six minutes to get to Delmonico's, can you make that?"

The Corporal fumbled his smoke and snapped off a salute. "No problem, sir!"  
Roy had his doubts, but he had no choice; it was this or lose his table.

Four minutes and eighteen seconds later, the car whipped an illegal U-turn across three wet lanes and slid to a sideways stop at the restaurant awning, sending pedestrians scattering in alarm. Roy prised his grip off the seat cushions and stared into the rearview mirror, catching his breath.

"Where'd you learn to drive like that?"

The young Corporal blanched. "Sorry sir, you said to get here quick, so--"  
"Never mind, Corporal Havoc. How would you like a transfer out of the motor pool?"

 

*****


End file.
